


Here and Now

by ariel2me



Series: Drabble/Ficlet Collection [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-01
Updated: 2013-12-11
Packaged: 2018-01-03 03:42:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1065350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariel2me/pseuds/ariel2me
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of asoiaf drabbles set during canon timeline.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sweetling

**Alerie Hightower**

 Her husband’s mother thought Alerie a fool, just like she thought her own son a fool. But Alerie knew and observed more than Olenna Redwyne ever thought possible, or would deign to give her credit for. Mother, Alerie called her mother-in-law, but she thought of the woman always as the Lady Olenna.

Lady Olenna loved her grandchildren, that much could not be denied. And she had significantly higher opinion of them that she did her own son, or the woman he married. Willas and Margaery especially. She was thick as thieves with them, spending hours cloistered with them, talking about things Alerie could only guess at. Alerie, like her husband, was not part of this intimate coterie.

“Whatever it is you’re planning, Mother, be sure my sweet Margaery comes to no harm,” Alerie said sweetly to Lady Olenna before Margaery’s wedding feast.

Lady Olenna laughed. “You are not as thick as your husband after all, Alerie dear.”

“Mace only wants the best for our sweetling, and for the family,” Alerie replied, her voice rising in defense of her husband.

“Oh I don’t doubt his good intentions, only his methods. He is too much his father’s son.”

It was the wine, Alerie suspected. Lady Olenna had done something to the wine Joffrey drank. But Margaery had drunk from the same cup too, and she was unharmed. Margaery must have known. Her sweetling must have known when to drink and when not to drink from the cup. Lady Olenna had prepared Margaery well.

Why should that surprise Alerie? Margaery had always been closer to her grandmother than to her own mother. She learned graces and courtly behavior from her mother, but everything else from her grandmother.

Her sweetling was safe from harm. In the end, that was all that mattered to Alerie.  


	2. Sweet Sister

**Willas** **considers his sister’s composure.**

Oberyn Martell died shouting his sister’s name to her murderer and raper. Margaery’s letter had been discreet, with barely a mention of the pandemonium that had taken place. She wrote only that Prince Oberyn had fallen, but not before gravely injuring Gregor Clegane as well.

Margaery had been Joffrey’s queen for less than a day. She was a widow again. But not for long, it seemed.

“If it’s a king your father wants for Margaery, then a king he shall have. Who the king is matters not in the least,” Grandmother had said before leaving for King’s Landing.

Tommen? A boy of what … eight? Half Margaery’s age. It could be years before she was bedded and the marriage consummated. Margaery seemed serene and untroubled by the prospect, just as she had seemed untroubled by the prospect of marrying Joffrey, even after Petyr Baelish came to Highgarden with his stories and his warnings about the young king. His sister’s composure and absolute self-possession unnerved Willas at times. Her graces and courtesies were not simply a mask hiding the turbulent self hiding inside; she was calm waters on the inside and outside.

Margaery was not naïve, Willas knew. Her composure and serenity were not the results of ignorance or delusion, or a refusal to face the truth. She saw the truth, and was never afraid. She knew the worst, and had full confidence in her ability to master any situation to her advantage. She reminded Willas of Grandmother in that regard, except Margaery’s tongue was far more trained and restrained, courtesy of their lady mother and her training.

 


End file.
